Vulnerability
by WildHorseFantasy
Summary: Neal and Peter have had a falling out. Can their friends and colleagues help them heal the rift and make peace? Additional info: this contains references to the episodes Payback Season 2 , Under the Radar, On Guard Season 3 and Gloves off Season 4 . Set between Gloves off and Vested Interest.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar or profit off it, I just dream in their world.**

This is one a lot of us had to write. Let's hope we all get our wish! **  
**

This may or may not be AU.

_Additional info: this contains references to the episodes Payback (Season 2), Under the Radar, On Guard (Season 3) and Gloves off (Season 4)  
_

* * *

The office was a cooler place with Neal Caffrey mad at Peter Burke. He still did his job and did it well. He was a con man after all, he could pretend. But the banter and smiles were gone. There was an unspoken ache. Peter recognized it. Neal felt it but buried it under his fury. He could not trust Peter. Peter had betrayed him.

The day Neal came to the office and Peter didn't show, he refused to ask about it when Jones and Diana gave him his assignments. He did those just fine too. But his eyes kept glancing at the empty office where Peter normally sat. He managed to hold off until the next day when concern finally forced it's way past his anger. "Where's Peter?"

"Took you this long to notice?" Jones asked, still a bit annoyed at Neal's behavior to Peter. He'd witnessed Neal's furious attack in the boxing ring and knew it wasn't an act, even though he didn't know the cause.

"One day could be a bug. Two days isn't like him." Even as he said it, he knew that the excuse didn't fly. Peter was a workaholic. It would take more than a bug for him to go down. At the very least, he'd have come to the office and taken paperwork home.

The way Diana stared at him told him he wasn't fooling her. "There was an accident."

"An accident?"

"Hit and run. He got knocked up and..." her eyes narrowed as she carefully studied Neal, "someone else was killed."

Neal's jaw dropped. Killed?

"What...?"

"They think it was a drunk driver. The light changed and the car ran up onto the sidewalk, hit a parked car that Peter was standing next too. When it pulled back out it ran over someone in the crosswalk.

"How bad is it?" Neal tried to ignore the concern. He was determined to stamp it down where it couldn't rear up and hurt him.

"Bad enough he'll be out for awhile."

Neal was tense as he retreated to his desk. He worked on the paperwork but he found himself reading and rereading a line.

He didn't want to care. He'd set out to use Peter to help him find Kate. Kate was dead. He would acknowledge Peter had helped him, that staying and serving out his sentence for the FBI was the best thing. But trusting Peter had hurt him badly. It made Sam run. Sam, his only link to his family. His throat closed in grief. He fought back a shudder, thinking of Ellen's funeral. So many unanswered questions in his life! Knowing she was out there was different than knowing her dead. There was a gaping hole now, and with the questions about his father the hole was growing ever larger.

He tightened his fingers on the pencil and stared down at the paperwork. FBI paperwork. A few years ago he would not have believed it. If he had known then, what he knew now, would he have stayed with Peter? Come back, all those times?

He finally jumped up and left to grab lunch. He ended up picking at a deli sandwich on a park bench. His stomach was hungry but he had no appetite. His eyes strayed to the statue where he'd hidden a ring. An engagement ring for Kate, that he'd given up to save Peter from Keller. A rare expensive and valuable item that he would never be able to give to his deceased girlfriend. Neal's thoughts drifted.

"Neal?"

He started. Diana was standing there.

"You okay?"

"Fine." He looked surprised. "Why?"

"You left for lunch two hours ago." She motioned to the uneaten food in his hand. "You aren't answering your phone..and you haven't eaten half of it."

Neal looked away, lips pressed firmly together. "I've been right here. I was just thinking about...Kate. " He checked the phone. "Batteries dead. Forgot to charge it."

"Uh huh." Diana sat next to him.

"I hid the ring there. On that statue. ."

"In plain sight?"

"I covered it so it looked like part of the statue. I was...going to ask her to marry me."

Diana studied him quietly. "It gets better."

"Losing someone you meant to marry?"

"Feeling a friend let you down."

Neal looked at her, then away. "You don't know anything about it." It was a dare. If Peter had approached Sam, run his name, than what had he told Diana after promising not too?

Diana didn't take the bait. "I don't need details. It's kind of obvious. He won't stop caring just because you wall yourself off. And you can put on that con man face and do your job and maybe even con yourself into believing you don't miss him. But you do. And...when you care about people and they care about you, both sides get hurt. You can't help it. That's life."

Him. Neal knew she didn't mean Kate. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then don't. But don't nurse it Neal. You're better than that and your hurting yourself."

"What makes you think I'm better than that?"

She snorted softly. "You wouldn't be hurting this much if you didn't care."

"I said we were done. Personally. I meant it."

Diana sighed. "Do you remember saying he was the one we all wanted to be like?"

Neal remained stone faced and silent.

"How many times, have your actions hurt him, and he forgave you anyway? You're better than this. You aren't a killer. But you are killing now Neal. Every time you decide your grudge and hurt and anger are more important than your friendship, you kill the best part of yourself. I don't think you want to be that person. I don't think you'd like what you would become."

Neal slowly looked up at her. "It's not that easy."

"Forgiveness is never easy. I'm not saying I'm good at it by any stretch of the imagination."

"I did trust him. We made a pact. We even shook on it. He broke it. He didn't ask me if I broke it. He just assumed I would."

Diana considered him. "You've broken your word on occasion." She reminded him with surprising gentleness.

Neal scowled. "I trusted him. This...this was important to me." There was pain he couldn't hide in his voice. Conflict was there too. He missed Peter, but couldn't admit it.

Diana pulled him up lightly. Neal left the sandwich on the bench and someone charged up and grabbed it. They both started as the homeless man tore into it. They glanced at each other. Diana nudged him on a slow walk back to her car. "So, you hold Peter to a higher standard than you hold yourself."

Neal was not walking with his normal, confident stride. His eyes were on the ground, hat pulled low. "Well, he is the agent after all." His voice simmered with resentment and just a touch of pain.

"And your friend and mentor and protector and it's hurting you like crazy that you feel like he let you down. Well, guess what? He's only human. You know he would never hurt you on purpose."

"I'm doing my job. I can't guarantee anything else." Neal got in the car and didn't comment on her driving.

"Just give yourself time to heal. Don't lie to yourself Neal even if you feel you need to con everyone else."

Neal sighed. He stared out the window at the passing traffic.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Jones?"

"No." He muttered.

"Would you do us a favor?"

Neal gave her wary look. Jones was put out with him, he knew. "What kind of favor?"

"Make a get well card for Peter?"

Neal shook his head sharply.

"You don't have to sign it. We just don't have time to go out and buy one."

Neal gave her an incredulous look. "Really? That's the reason your going with?"

"Everyone in the office, except you, I guess, wants to. We therefore need it fast."

Neal sucked in a deep breath, let it out with a sigh. It was still a lame reason, he knew. "All right." He grumbled.

Neal had the card ready quickly. It was hardly his best work. But everyone in the office signed it. Finally it came back to Diana. "I'll drop it off on the way home."

* * *

_to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

Peter sighed. Physically he was sore and bruised. But if it weren't for the headache from cracking his head on a wall, he'd have gone to work. His spirit was low too. He'd witnessed a man killed right in front of him, only steps away.

There was a knock at the door.

Elizabeth answered it. "Hey Diana."

"Hi. How's Peter?"

"Peter wants the monster with the hammer to leave his head alone." The sore agent grumbled.

"I brought you a get well card."

Elizabeth took it from her and showed it to Peter. "Everyone in the office signed it."

"Everyone?" Peter asked, looking at Diana, sadly. "How's..." he hesitated.

"Neal? He's getting his work done. He's not even driving us crazy." She didn't add that she almost wished he would. That would be normal for Neal.

"They caught the driver." Elizabeth said suddenly. "She was high on something and nearly killed herself in the process of fleeing the NYPD."

"Well, at least she's off the street. I'll feel better knowing that." Diana said.

Peter took the card from Elizabeth. "Thanks for this."

"Anytime boss. Really. Get better soon." Diana left.

Elizabeth sat next to Peter. He sighed deeply. He dealt with death occasionally as a White Collar agent. But rarely did it happen so senselessly in front of him. Hit and run. And in spite of that, underneath the pain of what he'd seen and the physical pain, another kind of hurt festered.

"I really let him down, El."

"I'm surprised he's stayed away, knowing your hurt."

Peter just shook his head. "He holds me to a higher standard than he holds himself."

"He looks up to you." She sighed.

"I'd just feel better if I knew Sam was who he claimed."

"I would too."

"Do you want me to read you what's on this card to save your head from reading?"

"Please."

She read the well wishes and signatures and when she was done, wished she hadn't. There was one missing. She knew Peter noticed.

Peter sighed again. "Let me see it."

She held it out. He stared at it, blinked repeatedly. The image showed a plain, ink drawing of an empty desk with a mug.

"I'm going to check on dinner." Elizabeth rose and went to the kitchen.

Peter waited until she'd turned her back, rose and went to a nearby drawer. He pulled out a magnifier and studied the drawing. His head pounded and his vision blurred. Frustrated, he rubbed his eyes. Then he saw it. Tucked into the cross hatching on the drawn desk were letters. The mug had 'GWS' on it instead of FBI. And tucked into the bottom corner of the desk as if hiding were the initials NC.

"El."

"Peter. The last thing you need is to be picking apart a greeting card with a magnifier."

"Look." He handed it to her and pointed.

She looked up at him. "It's almost like he's hiding it."

"Yeah." Peter stared at it.

"But it's there."

"Yeah. It's there."

"Get Well Soon instead of FBI on the mug." She smiled. "A turtle might've been as appropriate."

"A turtle?"

"He's retreated into a shell. All you can see are the eyes."

"Glaring at me and snarling. Do turtles snarl?"

"They snap. He's snarling or snapping get well soon." She smiled faintly. "And obviously he drew it."

"I have a feeling he was challenged to draw it."

"But they couldn't make him draw it, let alone sign it."

"So what do I do?"

"Be patient and let him know your sorry. Deep down, he knows your trying to help."

"He thinks I don't trust him enough."

"Mozzie doesn't trust him to think straight with it either."

"And if Mozzie agrees with me, we should be looking for the four horseman of the apocalypse."

She hugged him. "I'm going to put dinner on the table."

"Be there in a minute."

Peter stared down at the card. He felt a sudden echo of reversed deja vu. This lonely ache he felt, was this how Neal had felt when he'd jumped on him for stealing the treasure? Frozen him out? He was knew now that Mozzie had instigated it, that Neal, at the time he was accused and undergone the lie detector had honestly been hurt and surprised. After all, he really hadn't had time to go after it. And afterward he would've been in the awkward spot of betraying on of his closest friends if he told. Peter may not approve the choice, but he did understand. He had hurt Neal then too. And he hadn't realized how bad until now. Neal had wanted to stay because of him. How badly was he hurting, now, to tell Peter he was done with him and his friendship?

He stared at the almost invisible signature of his friend. He hurt for Neal. He was angry with himself for jumping to conclusions even knowing it was for the best of reasons. But he held onto those tiny initials as a sign. Their friendship was diminished, shrunk and hidden. But it wasn't gone completely. The hurt would ease. He had to believe that. He wouldn't give up on his friendship, even if Neal claimed he did.

"I'm here when your ready, Neal." He murmured softly.

Elizabeth waited until Peter returned to work a couple of days later before she followed through on her idea. She got a greeting card with a dog painting on the front, blank on the inside. Then she took Satchmo outside with art and craft supplies. "Okay Satch. I need your help."

She dropped her project off early the next day with June. "Please, don't tell him where it came from. He's so upset with us right now he might not even look first."

June sighed. "I can tell he's hurting." She looked up at Elizabeth. "You don't have kids."

Elizabeth shook her head. "We don't have kids and we did have relatively normal family lives growing up. I think how strong Neal feels about this blindsided us a bit. It's not just about Ellen..."

"No. It's something that's always been there. I'll put it in his apartment. And no, I won't tell him where it came from. I appreciate you not giving up on him."

Elizabeth smiled faintly. "He's worth the fight." And as she left, she wondered if she meant that in more ways than she could fathom.

Neal returned home from a day of mostly avoiding Peter at the office. He was puzzled by the package on the table. First aid kit? Why would anyone send him that? And an envelope lay on top. He picked it up. His name was on it in blocky uneven letters like kid print. He pulled out a card. Studying the front, which was decent art, but told him nothing, he flipped it open. He dropped in the nearest chair, blinking quickly. A black paw print, clearly a real paw in ink, not art, was the signature. A sticker of a sad dog and a ball were on the left. The simple message was "I get mad too. But they are only human after all. Please come back and play someday. Tell me what else you need to get patched up. I'll get it."

Neal's breathing quickened. He clenched it till it rumpled thinking about tearing it up. He dropped the card, rose, stepped back, circled the room and stared back at the card on the table. Tears blurred his vision and his lips tightened. He swallowed, fighting the odd urge to laugh. He was torn between grief and anger. He was glad no one was around to see. The hurt and confusion rose inside. Finally he picked up the card and studied the paw print. He sighed and dropped the stuff in a drawer. But after a moment he went back, pulled the card out and tucked it into the back of the book he was reading. "Well...I guess I'm not really mad at Satch..." He told himself. And knew even as he said it that he was conning himself. No matter how mad he was, he still needed to know Peter and Elizabeth cared. And he still cared about them. "Thanks Satchmo." He said shaking his head, and letting amusement override the pain for the moment. "I needed that."


End file.
